


Shiny and Warm

by starvinbohemian



Category: Days of Our Lives
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 15:13:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8018890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starvinbohemian/pseuds/starvinbohemian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sonny decides to save Chad from himself. With football.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shiny and Warm

        When Sonny wanders into the DiMera mansion with a pack of beer under his arm, looking about as out of place with his smile and his casual plaid shirt as a goldfish in a piranha tank, Chad knows that he’s about to have his afternoon hijacked.

        He’s not wrong. It’s the weekend, so he doesn’t have the excuse of work to avoid hanging out. Adrienne and Lucas took Thomas to the park, leaving Chad alone with his near invisible house staff.

        Chad had big plans today to wallow alone in misery, but it’s clear from the offset that Sonny is on a mission, and there’s no deterring him once that happens. That’s how Chad ended up part-owner of a coffee house once upon a time. Besides, there’s something about the determined tilt of Sonny’s chin that makes Chad give in before the fight’s even begun.

        Baseball season is over, so they watch football on Chad’s giant big screen in the entertainment room. The television hasn’t been used since Ciara moved out, and Chad can’t remember the last time he took the time to watch anything.

        “We’re rooting for the Cowboys,” Sonny tells him as he passes over a beer.

        “Shouldn’t we be rooting for someone more local?” The massive leather couch is big enough to sit the entire Brady clan, but Sonny still chose to sit directly in the middle rather than migrating to a side as Chad did. He clearly has no appreciation for personal space. In retaliation, Chad lays his long legs across Sonny’s lap. The gesture was intended to be annoying, but the position turns out to be fairly comfortable, so he just leaves them there. Sonny barely seems to notice, clearly caught up in the game.

        “The Bears aren’t playing today,” he says. “And I’m from Texas, so it’s the Cowboys or bust.”

        Chad purposefully wiggles his toes against Sonny’s thigh until Sonny finally pushes him off with an eye-roll. Chad tells him, “You’re the least Texan Texan I’ve ever met.”

        “Well, that’s your misconception. Now, pass the chips.”

        It’s not the worst Sunday afternoon he’s ever had. In fact, it’s kind of nice. He’s missed Sonny. There are only so many people Chad can stand interacting with on a regular basis, and Sonny is one of them.

        A year. It's been a year since Chad had a friend he could talk to.

        “You disappeared on me.”

        Chad didn’t mean to express the thought aloud or even to sound so accusatory, but the sentiment isn’t exactly inaccurate. He needed his friend more than ever this past year. They all needed him, and Chad would bet a good chunk of his DiMera inheritance that Sonny needed them, too. What was he even doing in Paris? Sonny doesn’t belong in Paris. He belongs in Salem. With Chad.

        However, the pained look on Sonny’s face instantly fills him with guilt. Sonny stops him before he can apologize. “You’re right. I did disappear. After Will…”

        “No, I get it. I’m sorry.” Chad has gotten so used to dealing with people who refuse to own their mistakes that he sometimes forgets to be more gentle with the ones that do.

        Chad rubs Sonny’s shoulder until some of the pain in his expression subsides. “Your husband died. You had a right to grieve however you needed to.” No one understands that better than him.

        God, look at them. Both widowers before they’re even thirty. Chad never would have foreseen that. He also never would have foreseen that he would have to bury three siblings and his father just a few years after burying his mother. He’s never been good at predicting the curve balls of his own life.

        Chad, the survivor.

        Only a few years ago, he was just a dumb kid looking up from the outside at the DiMera mansion, wondering how the other half lived. Now, he is the other half, and he would give anything to go back to being that dumb kid.

        Chad Peterson-Woods, not yet Chad DiMera. Where did he go?

        Sonny smiles sadly at him. He clasps Chad’s hand where it rests on his shoulder. “And you lost your wife. Chad, I am so, so sorry about Abigail.”

        “I know.” Chad’s smile is tight as he pulls away, resettling into his corner of the couch. He doesn’t want to talk about Abigail today, and Sonny seems to get that.

        Instead, Chad listens to Sonny’s comforting ramble about the game they’re watching. He doesn’t especially care about football in general, but Sonny’s passion for the game is amusing. When he gets excited, Chad even thinks he can detect a slight Texas twang in his voice.

        He’s really missed Sonny.

        Chad finds himself watching his friend instead of the game. He studies the changes in Sonny’s face, seeing harder lines than were there before. Following an impulse, he strokes Sonny’s cheek to feel the changes for himself. Sonny allows the touch, his eyes trained on the television and his mouth full of Doritos.

        It’s nice, touching someone again. Of course, thoughts of Abigail arrive on the heels of that thought. They send pain through his chest before he can banish them, and he ends up saying the first thing regarding Sonny that comes to mind as a distraction.

        “You’ve been avoiding the Paul subject.”

        Sonny flinches as if Chad had hit him, which wasn’t Chad’s intention, but he wouldn’t be a good friend if he just ignored the elephant in the room. Before Sonny left for Paris, Chad had his own distractions, sure, but it still hadn’t escaped his notice that Sonny was in love with the man his husband had cheated on him with. Judging by his stricken expression, the situation still remains the same. Chad assumes that Sonny and Paul must have at least talked by now. Sonny has been back long enough.

        Sonny also hasn't said a word about it.

        Not looking at him, Sonny shoots back, “Yeah, well, you’ve been avoiding everything.”

        Fair enough. He lets the Paul subject drop. It’s fine if Sonny doesn’t want to tell him what’s been going on with Paul. Chad will probably find out anyway, this being Salem and all. 

        About an hour in, Sonny forces him to take a break for lunch. The good Samaritan that he is, he makes sure Chad actually eats as opposed to just picking at his food. It’s just _this side_ of nagging.

        From anyone else, Chad would find this behavior annoying. Since it’s Sonny, Chad thinks he understands. Most likely, Sonny is mother-henning him because he’s a caretaker with no one left to care for. Gabi has custody of Arianna, and Will is gone. And Chad could not be a bigger mess than he is right now. His tragic state must have been like a beacon to Sonny.

        He can’t really bring himself to complain. The mansion feels warmer with Sonny in it, the corners all less sharp. He’s okay with letting Sonny keep the demons at bay for at least one day. His aching loneliness will always be there tomorrow.

        Chad makes it through most of the game. Eventually, he grows bored, and he and Sonny move on to chess. Watching Sonny attempt to concentrate and execute a strategy through the fog left by several beers is truly something to see, and Chad finds himself giggling at the absurdity of it all. He’s had a few beers himself.

        Unlike Chad, Sonny keeps one eye on the football game even as he plays chess. It's only one of many reasons why Chad is going to win. The look on Harold’s face when Sonny requests that cookies be brought out to them is worth the chocolate stains he suffers on his sleeves when Sonny grabs his arm in excitement over a touchdown.

        Sonny is frowning down at his chess pieces when, unprompted, Chad announces, “I’ve decided to arrange a marriage between Thomas and Arianna.”

        Sonny chokes on his beer. “Err, what?”

        “Sorry, but it’s inevitable. They’re poised to be the next Romeo and Juliet of Salem. The heirs to the DiMera and Kiriakis dynasties. Beautiful. Rich. Forbidden.” He spreads his hands. “Inevitable.”

        Apparently giving up on the chess match— no doubt bored of having his ass handed to him by Chad— Sonny relocates with a lazy _hmph_ to the floor. He looks perfectly at home, with his feet propped up on Chad’s expensive couch. Chad sways a bit on his feet as he follows Sonny down to the carpet. The room is spinning.

        “The Brady and Horton _dynasties_ might have something to say about that. Especially considering that they're _cousins._ ”

        "They are?" Maybe he has had one too many. Ah, well. Isn't everyone in Salem just a little bit related? Privately, he thinks that Sonny and Paul had better get started on making their own family so that Chad and Sonny can still become in-laws someday, complete with matching porch swings for when they get old. Sonny and Paul's kids wouldn't be Thomas's cousins, right? 

        "They are," Sonny confirms. He's still talking about Arianna and Thomas, and he sounds very certain for someone so drunk. "So, I imagine the Bradys and Hortons might object." 

        Smirking, Chad says, “What could they do against our combined forces?”

        What couldn’t he and Sonny do if they put their heads together?

        Chad gently knocks Sonny’s legs down from his plush cushions and shifts so that he can settle over Sonny’s lap with a knee on either side of his waist. He grins down at him. “I’m going to get you over to DiMera Enterprises.”

        Sonny shifts accommodatingly to allow Chad’s extra weight on him. “Doubtful,” he says, even though his eyes are twinkling at Chad with amusement.

        “We’re going to take over the world. You and me.”

        He wasn’t trying to be funny, but Sonny laughs. His laugh is so pure and real—things that have been conspicuously missing from his life— that Chad can’t help himself. He leans down and kisses Sonny on the mouth so he can feel that laugh against his skin.

        After a moment, Sonny pushes him away, still laughing. “You taste like beer.”

        Chad frowns down at Sonny, considering. But not for long, because he’s a DiMera and DiMeras don’t hesitate. He kisses Sonny again. This time, he kisses with intent, caressing Sonny’s lips with his own, pulling his plump lower lip with his teeth before running his tongue over it.

        It’s strange kissing a man, mainly in that it’s not strange at all. Who knew?

        Chad is also very, very drunk. Drunk enough to follow an impulse, but sober enough to recognize the randomness of the gesture. If it were anyone else, then he would feel embarrassed by this. But it’s Sonny, who has only ever made Chad feel safe. Loved. It’s been a long time since he’s felt that way.

        Still, he’s about to pull back, to laugh, and make a joke of it before things get too awkward.

        But then something strange happens. Before he can pull away, Sonny threads his fingers into Chad’s hair and kisses him back.

        Oh.

        Now, it’s a whole other thing. Sonny kisses Chad with the assertiveness of a man who knows what he's doing. It’s a shock at first when their tongues touch, but the shiver that runs through his body has Chad moaning into Sonny’s mouth. He gives in to the pull and tilts Sonny’s head up, cupping his jaw, so he can deepen the kiss. This, he realizes, is what has had all the gay men of Salem chasing after Sonny like thirsty dogs.

        This mental image has Chad giggling before he can stop himself, which leads to Sonny pulling back with a bemused frown. But Chad has trouble stopping once he’s started, and soon Sonny is giggling along with him.

        Chad fondly pats Sonny’s cheek. “For the record, you taste like beer, too.”

        “I can’t remember the last time I kissed a straight boy,” Sonny says. He looks flustered and a tad embarrassed. It makes Chad smile.

        “College, probably.”

        “Probably.”

        “Want to do it again?”

        He doesn’t wait for an answer before going back in. Strangely, this feels… okay. Like a safe space. A safe space to indulge a curiosity he’s maybe never quite admitted to having. There’s nothing to fear here, Chad knows. Every other move he makes these days seems to come with a barrel full of consequences, but not this. Not them. Because he and Sonny are solid. It just so happens that kissing Sonny makes him feel more delirious than even alcohol manages.

        Again: who knew?

        However, his mouth has barely touched Sonny’s again before Sonny’s phone suddenly goes off, startling them both. “Sorry,” he says, and Chad reluctantly rolls off of Sonny so he can pull his phone from his pocket. The complex mix of emotions that rolls across Sonny’s face as he stares at the screen tells Chad exactly who is calling. 

        With a wry smile, he lets his head fall back on the carpet. The room is still spinning.

        “Paul?”

        Sonny’s guilty expression is answer enough.

        “Go on,” he says, and Sonny clumsily stumbles to his feet.

        “I’ll be back.”

        “Don’t rush on my account.”

        The words are nonchalant, but something about seeing Sonny about to walk out the door has Chad sitting up in a panic. He hates the desperation he hears in his own voice. “Sonny, you’ll come back?”

        Sonny gives him a strange look, but he says, “Of course I will.”

        He leaves Chad there on the floor, still somehow not in the worst mood.

 

 _Finis_.


End file.
